On the Wind
by Alex Kade
Summary: OW: Ezra shares a tradition he learned from a childhood friend.


**A/N: **What is wrong with me? Posting yet another fluffy, non-whumpy thing! My brain must be broken... Or Ezra drugged me! I think that's it! He got tired of me beating on him... sneaky lil conman... I'll get you, Ezra!

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><p>"What're you doing here, JD? You're supposed to be on watch," Chris questions as the young sheriff pushes his way into the saloon.<p>

"I was, but-" the kid starts, but his excuse ends in a huff when Buck slaps him on the chest.

"But nothin', kid, you got a job to do."

JD takes a step back. "Dammit, Buck, this is important."

Vin tilts his head up. "If it's so important, why're you takin' so long to spit it out?"

Sighing, JD turns away from him and looks pointedly at Josiah. "Just thought you might wanna know that Ezra's on your roof setting somethin' on fire."

"What?" Josiah practically bellows, throwing down his cards and jumping to his feet. He pushes his way past the sheriff as he runs out the door.

Nathan gets up to follow. "Why didn't you say somethin' sooner? Probably has the church half burned down by now."

"But, I-"

The healer's already gone before JD can finish his statement, the others sharing a quick look before they move to go after them.

"Come on, kid, this oughtta be good," Buck chuckles and waits for the flabbergasted JD to catch up.

They race behind the frantic Josiah and reach the church in time to see the preacher scrambling up the ladder. On the roof they can see Ezra hovering over a large lantern, its door wide open so he can use the flame to light some sort of long, thin stick. What looks to be a row of strange white boxes is lined up at the roof's edge, but before anyone can question what they are, they hear Josiah's baritone voice hollering the gambler's name.

"He's not gonna throw him off, is he?" JD asks.

Chris snorts out a laugh as Nathan grumbles, "He better not, I don't wanna have to patch that fool up."

Up top, Ezra freezes as the preacher storms his way over to him, snatching the stick out of his hand and using calloused fingers to snuff out the flame. "What are you doing?" Ezra asks in a mildly annoyed tone.

Josiah gives him a dumbfounded look. "What am I-? You're about to destroy my home and you ask me what _I'm _doing?"

The Southerner turns away from him and idly shuts the door on the lantern. "My, don't we have a flare for the dramatic? I assure you, I have everything well under control. Your precious church is not at risk."

He points to a bucket of water within easy reach. Beside it Josiah notices several ink wells and a set of small paint brushes. Realization dawns on him as he notices the line of paper boxes near their feet.

"Ezra, are these-?"

"Sky lanterns. Today is Zhōngyuánjié." He stoops to pick up the lantern closest to him, bringing it closer to the light so Josiah can see the scrolling Asian characters wrapped neatly all the way around it. "Silly tradition, I know, but one I cannot help but partake in every year."

The preacher sighs and shakes his head. "Wanting to reach out to our lost loved ones is never silly, no matter the ritual or where it came from… It does spark my curiosity, though. I never took you as the type to believe in something like the Spirit Festival. Also didn't know you knew how to write Chinese."

The conman smiles warmly, albeit a little sadly. "Lonely children have a habit of accepting a friendship wherever they can find it, no matter how peculiar that friendship may be. I may have picked up a few habits in my youth that dear mother did not intend on me keeping."

"But you kept this one?"

Ezra turns away further, looking out into the night sky. He speaks softer and Josiah can detect the slight discomfort in his voice. "I would accompany Houjin on festival nights during the summers when Mother left me in Charleston. He would send messages to his sister taken by disease at an early age… Now I send messages to him…"

"May I ask…?" Josiah ventures hesitantly.

A scowl darkens the Southerner's face. "To put it simply, the War was…unkind…to Houjin and his family."

The preacher ducks his head and says a short prayer under his breath. His eyes light on the rest of the paper lanterns, realizing only a few others have writing on them. Ezra stands up and paces down the line of them, pointing at them as he speaks.

"My father,… a favorite aunt,… and these are for men from my regiment." He huffs. "Boys, more like." His attention turns to the blank ones. "And these…" he coughs as he looks down at the other peacekeepers who are watching in confusion from the ground.

Vin looks up and catches Ezra's eye. "Must have a pretty good excuse if Josiah hasn't killed 'im yet."

They hear a slight chuckle roll down from the bigger man and see him wrap a friendly arm around the gambler's shoulder. Josiah beams down at them and waves them up to the roof.

"What're those two up to?" Chris wonders allowed, but takes the first steps towards the ladder.

Josiah helps them up one by one until they're all standing quietly, waiting for the explanation. Ezra fiddles with his sleeve for a few seconds until Josiah clears his throat, urging him to share his thoughts. The gambler takes in a readying breath.

"I had planned on releasing mine before allowing each of you gentlemen the option to participate in private, but our good preacher believes it best if we all share the moment as one."

Josiah smiles. "Festivals are meant to be celebrated with friends, not in solitude."

"What are we celebrating?" JD asks.

"We're _honoring _people we care about," Ezra corrects. "The Chinese believe that on this day of the year, a doorway opens between the land of the living and the other side. These," he points at the lanterns, "are a means of sending a message to the heavens."

"Ezra, here, thought we might want to send our own messages and left us a few blanks ones," Josiah finishes, placing a hand on the gambler's shoulder.

The others look at each other before JD is the first to walk over and investigate one of the blank paper boxes. "So I can send a message to my mom? How's she supposed to get it?"

Ezra flashes a genuine, gold-toothed smile and holds his hand out to Josiah. "If I may demonstrate?"

Josiah hands the confiscated stick over to the Southerner, who promptly goes back to lighting it in the glass lantern's flame. Carefully, he raises up the paper box enough to reveal a small tray attached to its underside and sets the contents of the tray alight. The glow from the flame easily lights up the entire inside of the lantern, silhouetting the painted black symbols against a soft orange glow. Ezra takes a step closer to the edge of the roof and holds the lamp out.

"Nǐ hǎo, my friend. I hope the evening sees you well." He gently holds the bottom of the paper with his fingertips before slowly peeling them away. JD's eyes grow wide as the lantern drifts up towards the sky, watching as the flickering orange beacon becomes a small spot amongst the stars. Ezra turns back and smiles at him. "Would you like to try one?"

"Hell yeah!" the kid nearly shouts, then ducks his head sheepishly as the others laugh. "I mean, if you don't mind…"

The Southerner shakes his head and points to where the paints are. "Be my guest. Would the rest of you gentlemen like to…?"

Vin shifts awkwardly as JD rushes to snatch up a lantern and some utensils to write with. "What do we say on 'em?"

"Anything you'd like," Ezra tells him. He picks up the one meant for his father which is covered in his neat handwriting. "It can be as elaborate," he sets it down and picks one up further down, showing Vin that there's nothing but a drawing of a tiger on it, "or as simple as you like. Thomas was infatuated with a book I would occupy my time with between battles. He couldn't read but he enjoyed the pictures of the exotic animals printed on the pages." Sending the tracker a subtle wink, he reaches down and hands Vin another blank lantern. "I believe a mother might enjoy a sketch from her son?"

Vin smiles and takes the offering. "Yeah, I think she'd like that a lot."

Within minutes everyone but Chris is busy scrawling away on their lanterns. Ezra steps back to stand beside him, being careful to avoid eye contact with the gunslinger as he speaks. "I realize it's none of my business, but I would think that perhaps Sarah and Adam might like to hear from the estranged father figure of their family?"

Chris glances over at him and smirks just a tiny bit while Ezra still keeps his eyes firmly glued on the activities of their compatriots. "Thought I might let Mary and Billy have mine," he informs the gambler.

Standish turns to him, surprised. "Very noble, Mr. Larabee, but no need to sacrifice this rare opportunity. Sky lanterns are quite easy to assemble, I assure you. In fact, young Master Travis might enjoy making his own."

Nodding, Chris allows his grin to grow bigger. "I'll go get 'em, then." He turns to head down the ladder and pauses at the top. "Ezra?" he calls, but when the Southerner turns to him again, he finds himself lost for words. Instead he simply gives Standish a simple tip of his hat and disappears over the edge, missing the embarrassed little smile on the gambler's face.

Within an hour a little over half the town is crowded around the church, eager to participate in the surprise festival. The others stay in their homes or the saloon, unwilling to "practice such pagan traditions;" yet they keep their eyes on the festival, anyway, curious to see something new in their tiny town. Many of the people that Ezra walks amongst, assisting where he can, have donated their own ink and drawing utensils. They build lanterns and create their messages for the loved ones who have passed until the gambler runs out of the ream of specialized, lightweight paper he had ordered just for the special occasion. When everyone is finished, Billy tugs on the end of Ezra's coattail.

"Mr. Standish?" he asks shyly.

Smiling, the Southerner squats down to be at face level with the boy. "And what can I do for you, Mr. Travis?"

Billy shifts from foot to look, peering around at all the townsfolk putting the finishing touches on their lanterns . "Um…I don't think all these people will fit on Mr. Josiah's roof."

Ezra barks out a laugh and pats the child on the head. "Very perceptive, young man, and you are quite right. No need to worry, though, the lanterns will fly just as easily from the ground."

"Can I send _mine _from the roof?" Billy asks hopefully.

A glance over his head reveals Mary standing behind listening to the conversation and mouthing "no" over to Ezra. The conman thinks his answer over for only a second before looking at Billy seriously. "I think it would be best if you kept your feet firmly on the ground." Billy instantly begings to pout, to which Ezra shakes his head and uses a finger to tilt up the boy's chin so they are looking at each other again. "Now, now, no need for dismay. You don't want your father to be too preoccupied with making sure you don't fall to receive your message, do you?" Billy's eyes go wide and he firmly shakes his head, so the Southerner continues. "If you'd like, I can take your lantern up and release it personally from the highest point on the roof. Then you may help your mother release hers from down here. Does that suit you?"

Billy nods excitedly. "Can it be the first one?"

"My thoughts, exactly," Ezra promises as he stands. Mary gives him a thankful smile and he tips his hat at her while taking the lantern from Billy's hands. He then makes his way back up the ladder, followed quietly by the six other peacekeepers who had also been milling about helping the townsfolk where needed. They all stand before their lanterns, childlike grins on their faces, with the exception of the gambler. He carefully picks his way up the slope to stand beside the steeple, gripping it tight with one hand while holding Billy's fragile message with the other.

"Josiah, if you would be so kind as to set the first light?" he asks, holding the lantern out away from him so the preacher can reach it with the stick.

With a nod, Josiah complies then steps back, watching. Ezra looks down at all the anxious faces below, all ready to send their messages on their way. "Ladies, gentlemen, let's light up the sky, shall we?" he shouts with a brilliant smile.

As he releases the first lantern, Billy and Mary watch it float away with tears in their eyes. Their trance is broken as eager hands begin to light their own lanterns and Billy is quick to point out that they still have one more message to send. Within seconds, the sky fills with flickering orange boxes, the slight wind making them dance around one another as they make their way to a destination unknown. Even those who chose not to participate can't help but be taken in by the beauty of the scene and that shared moment of connecting with ones lost.

Up on the roof Nathan gives Ezra a hand down off the high point. They keep their arms interlocked for a second longer than necessary in a sign of camaraderie and thanks before the Southerner slowly makes his way before his own lanterns. He looks down the line of his fellow peacekeepers and smiles. "Shall we go on three?" he asks. They smile back and nod, picking up the first of their lanterns and waiting for his count. As he gives the signal they gently send off their own messages, each one of them whispering a small greeting as the lanterns float away. They go through the others slowly, watching until each one gets lost amongst the myriad of glowing lights in the sky before they send off another. By the time it's done and there are no more lanterns, all of them have given up trying to hide the shimmer of tears in their eyes.

As the lights dim and the townsfolk below begin to filter away with their feelings of peace and, for some of them, closure, the seven men on the roof sit down comfortably to enjoy the warmth of the evening. They watch on in comfortable silence until the last lantern fades completely from sight.

Ezra sighs and lies back on the roof, folding his hands underneath his head. Josiah leans towards him and says softly, "You brought a wonderful gift to this town tonight, son."

The gambler shakes his head. "Simply passing on a tradition, nothing worth noting."

"Kinda have to disagree," Vin speaks up. "Haven't felt this close to my ma in a long time."

"Me too," JD agrees. "Can we do this again next year?"

Chris looks pointedly at the gambler. "We'll have to pitch in for supplies, not fair that Ezra has to pay for it all."

The conman sits up, surprised.

Buck nods. "Yup, we'll probably have to get enough stuff for at least twenty more people with the way the town's growin'."

Nathan sighs. "We need to find a safer way to light these, though. We get that many lanterns, someone's likely to get careless."

Ezra watches in amazement as his friends openly, and very seriously, discuss the plans for next year's festival. Josiah leans closer to him to talk quietly in his ear. "Looks like you brought back your friend Houjin in more ways than one tonight."

"Indeed," the conman agrees in a flabbergasted tone. He chuckles as JD and Vin argue over paint colors. "And I do believe he would be laughing."

Josiah's deep laughter joins the Southerner's, interrupting the conversation. He shakes his head at their confused looks and starts up the planning again, suggesting they get different color paper next time around, too. Ezra gazes quietly up at the sky while he listens in amusement, feeling the link growing between his past and his present. In that moment, all his chosen families combine as one and a sense of warmth washes over him; and for the first time in his life he finally feels what it means to be "home."

_**The End!**_


End file.
